When You Leave Me
by This Is My Escape
Summary: A lot can happen in twenty years. AU.


**_Issuing a major angst warning (though there is a semi-HEA ending). _**

_AN: Angst's your thing, then? Cool. ;) So anyway, this year marks the third annual Author-to-Author DE Exchange, and I decided to participate again. I fell head over heels in love with Molly's prompt and if you've read my stuff before...you know I LOVE angst._

_Molly's prompt: "After some big fallout/decision, The Salvatore Brothers left Elena behind to start a normal life. She dies at the young age of 40 (for any reason you like, try make me cry please!) and leaves behind a child. The child goes to visit their mother's grave on Xmas eve. It can be one year after she died/five years/ten years. When they go, they see Damon at her grave and he is leaving a rose on her grave. I want him to have some heart wrenching speech. Something that is going to make me cry! They can interact with one another, or the child can just stand in the background and listen. I just want a heart broken Damon talking to Elena's grave on Xmas eve."_

_Thank you, Carol for beta-reading and Amy for pre-reading. You both get your own Damon for the holidays.  
_

_Enjoy, everyone! ~Kate_

_PS The music that played in the background while writing, if you're interested: Slipped – The National (First half) & All I Want – Kodaline (Second half)_

* * *

She climbs down from her daddy's car with her bouquet of daises she'd picked from the flower shop. Hand in hand, they walk together to say goodbye to Momma for the last time. He says they're leaving, moving to another city far away from here. When she'd asked why, he'd said that it would be easier and they could start fresh. She didn't know what that meant, but she'd told him she would be okay with it if it meant they could bring Momma with them.

"Momma's going to be wherever you are, but this is the last time we're going to see her here." Daddy lifts her into his arms, settles him on her hip and continues to walk through the snow to Momma's gravesite. "You're getting so big, Mags. I won't be able to do this for much longer."

"But I won't be seeing her anymore. Daddy, I don't wanna leave her alone." She wipes at her cold nose that's just staring to run. "It's Christmas...she'll be lonely."

"She's going to be wherever you are, remember? Remember what she told you?"

"I'll always remember. She said she would always be with me," she says, because even though she remembers, she's only just able to. She'd only been four when Momma got sick two years ago. "Do you think she's lonely?"

"I don't think so." Her daddy says quietly, carrying her until they reach the Gilbert family plot, before he suddenly stops where he is and she looks up from having buried her face in his neck, and sees a man with dark hair setting a rose down on the Momma's headstone.

"Daddy, who is that?"

_Elena Marie Gilbert-Whitmore  
Beloved Wife, Mother, & Sister  
June 22, 1992 – December 24, 2034_

Damon's jaw is locked so tight he feels it may shatter under the pressure. It makes his head pound, but if he relaxes it, he won't be able to fight back his tears. His vision is clouded, misted, and he can just barely make out the inscription on the headstone.

"What an awesome Christmas present, Elena," he snaps at her, "I come home, you're dead, and..._goddammit, _you had my number. Why didn't you use it?"

No one had told him about what had happened to her. He'd just been lucky enough to find out on his own.

Coming home from Mystic Falls for the first time in twenty years, Elena had been the first person he'd planned on seeing, making amends with, and begging for forgiveness from. He and Stefan hadn't wanted to leave her, but they were left with no choice, Klaus's words ringing in both of their heads.

"_The worst thing for Elena Gilbert is the two of you."_

Either they left, or Elena would never have a normal life. She'd never have the life she deserved after having already lost so much. Eventually, Stefan had moved on, saying he had no intentions on ever stepping foot in that God-forsaken place ever again, and he'd rolled his eyes at his brother. Stefan had added on to his little revelation saying that if anyone ever needed anything he'd help, and then would leave again. He said walking away had been the best thing for him – for both of them,

Little Brother had never been more wrong.

It had taken them weeks to get a move on, but then Denver happened and it had sparked him to finally make the decision he needed to make. For everyone. They'd all be better off, he knew and when they did leave, Damon and Stefan had traveled the world together. They'd hit every world-famous stop and the ones not so well known, drinking their fill of the best wines, bourbons, and arteries. While Broody had been enjoying the vacation, as he'd called it, Damon had thought about flipping the switch a third time on more than one occasion.

At the end of their "Around the World in 8,030 days" excursion, though, he'd had enough.

His thoughts of Elena and how much he'd missed her upon leaving town had been every other second, annoying the hell out of him and his heart. The Switch-Flip had become more and more appealing until nearly twenty years later, when the thought of _no_ thoughts had provoked him to hightail it back to Mystic Falls. He couldn't do it a third time. The second time, after seeing a brunette that he'd mistaken for Elena and the switch had flipped back on, had nearly killed him with the overwhelming pain he felt over leaving her.

He'd missed her. It was simple as that, and he'd realized that his mind no longer thinking of Elena was its way of protecting himself. A world without Elena was unfathomable. She was everything him, always had been, and pretending otherwise for so goddamned long had been both idiotic and infuriating.

He'd wasted so much time.

And then he came home, and his life nearly ended just two days prior when he found Jeremy packing up the Gilbert house.

_Climbing out of his car and slamming the door shut, Damon's prepared to do just about anything to earn Elena's forgiveness. He won't get on his knees, but he'd beg if she tells him that's what it takes to forgive him. He knows he'd fucked up by leaving, knew the second he left, but he'd only ever wanted to keep her safe._

_As he approaches the front door, he feels something twisting inside. His stomach's in knots, he's so nervous. He's going to see her for the first time in twenty years. For a vampire, that timespan really is nothing, a few minutes really, but when it comes to Elena, a minute turns into decades (both a blessing and a curse)._

_Normally, he'd just walk on through, but this time is different. As Damon raises his fist to meet the surface of the door, it swings open._

_Her little brother's brown eyes immediately narrowed. "What the hell are you doing here," he asks, reluctantly stepping aside and allowing the vampire into the house._

"_Jeremy," Damon greets, nodding once and dropping his arm at his side. "Long time, no see."_

"_It's been years. What are you doing here," he asks again, clearing his throat. _

"_Made a mistake, here to make it right." Damon smirks. "The usual."_

"_Make it right?" Jeremy sneers. "Do you have any clue what happened while you were gone?"_

_Damon's face falls as the broken statement finally rings in his ears, and he sees just how upset Elena's kid brother truly is. Something's wrong, he realizes. He looks behind Jeremy and sees piles of boxes cluttering the foyer. The furniture's gone, the carpet's been vacuumed, and looking cleaner than he's ever seen it._

"_You're moving."_

"_Yeah, I am."_

"_Where's Elena?" he asks, feeling that once manageable knot in his stomach tangle into an undoable mess. "Where is she, Jer?"_

_A tear slips from the man's eye, and he wipes it away. He sets the box down and turns away from him, walking over to another box marked, 'Elena's.' He takes a pocket knife from his back pocket and rips it wide open._

"_What are you doing?"_

"_Answering your question." Jeremy digs through the box before finding what he apparently needs to do so and holding it out to Damon. _

_It's a photo album. _

_Elena's face is on the cover, and she's got a man by her side with blonde hair, and a little girl with big, brown eyes though they're shaped like the man's. _

"_She married him." Damon's eyes cut to Jeremy's and he nods. "He's a good man, Aaron."_

_Feeling an overwhelming surge of anger, he shoves the book back into Jeremy's hands. "So, she's married. Where is she? I need to talk to her."_

"_You can't."_

"_What the hell do you mean, I can't?" he growls at him. "Try and stop me."_

"_Unless you can find a way to talk to the dead, you _can't_." _

_His heart leaps in his throat, and he watches Jeremy's mouth continue to move, but no sound comes out. He doesn't hear anything past 'dead' repeating like a mantra in his mind, over and over again until the world begins to spin and Jeremy's face blurs out of focus. _

_The next thing he knows, someone is shouting at him, and then he feels a painful throbbing in jaw. _

_Forcing his eyes open, Damon sees Jeremy kneeling over him. He grunts and pushes the brunette off of him as he gets to his feet, shaking him off when he tries to help. "What the fuck happened?"_

_He knows exactly what's happened._

_Jeremy told him Elena was dead and he'd passed the fuck out. _

_And her brother had laid into him to wake him up. _

_The pain's already subsiding but he glares at him regardless._

"_You passed out when I told you Elena's …"_

"_Don't you fucking say it."_

"_Damon –"_

"_I swear to God, Jer, say it and you'll know what a real punch to the face feels like."_

_Jeremy's next words come out strained, and he puts a firm hand on his shoulder._

"_I'm so sorry."_

Damon stands in front of the grave, seeming to have frozen in place. The snow is falling lightly now, but he hardly notices. For a vampire, every sense is heightened but since the news of her death has sunk in, it's like every sense has been muted. He can only feel heartache and regret.

"Stubborn to a fucking fault, huh, Gilbert?" he asks quietly. "You could have called. You could have told me you were sick. When I told you not to need me that night, I'd meant it. But I never, _ever_ meant for you to take that as forbidding you to call me if you ever _did. Fuck, _Elena, maybe if you had…"

_The decision to leave Elena had been a painful one, though he doesn't tell her that. Stefan had already gotten a head start. He'd left the moment it was decided. Damon, however, hadn't been able to make the jump into their Elena-less future so eagerly. _

_And as he stares at Elena's tear-marred face, the decision to go through with it isn't any easier._

"_What do you mean, you're both leaving?" she chokes out. And then it seems to click with her. "Damon, is this because of Denver? I just need time. I know how you feel, I've always known, but now that I might be feeling the same?" She runs a frustrated hand through her hair, squeezing her eyes shut before opening them and revealing the amount of her pain with one look. It pierces his heart but he won't change his mind. _

_He can't._

"_I need time. I just need time, but don't leave! You can't!"_

_He has to. "It's done. Stefan's already gone," he tries to force his voice to remain emotionless though he's not sure it's working, "and I'm leaving the moment we're done here." She continues to stare at him, tears continuing to escape his eyes. He can't take it anymore. He needs to leave. Now. "So, that's it then."_

"_That's it?" she snarls. "No, Damon. No that's not, 'it,' alright, you don't just get to leave after promising me you wouldn't!"_

"_Promises aren't always kept, Elena. Better you learn it now than later." He turns his back on her, walking toward the door and grabbing the handle. The door has only opened an inch or two before a hand slams it back shut._

"_When it's real, you can't walk away!"_

_The memory of Georgia strikes him and he wrenches his eyes closed. "I'm_ not_ walking away," he croaks, halfheartedly trying to open the door again. _

"_You're right. You're running."_

_He whirls around on her and he can't get the words out because she's crushing her mouth to his and slamming him against the door's surface. She rips a moan from him when he feels her tongue sliding along his lower lip, and he allows her inside. This kiss, while as passionate as their last, is filled with desperation. It's a goodbye where no words are needed, she knows as well as he does that there is no changing his mind, and while he knows she's not okay with it, she's doing her best to find out what exactly lies between them._

_Better late than never, he figures, though he doesn't want her to regret what he has a feeling is about to take place._

"_Elena," he pants as she reaches for the metal snap on his dark jeans, and he grabs her wrist. "You can't tell me the time you needed to decide how you feel was two minutes. You can't tell me you've decided how you feel in two _minutes,"_ he repeats, dumbfounded. "I'm in love, not stupid."_

"_You're leaving me," she answers softly, though he can hear the panic in her voice as she raises on her toes shakily and presses another kiss to his mouth. "That's enough of a wakeup call. Damon, please…"_

_He knows she's going to ask him not to leave again, not to leave _her_, so he silences her when she tries to continue and picks up where they left off. He kisses her again, lifts her and wraps her legs around his waist, and she's eager in her attempt to unbutton his shirt while he speeds them to her bedroom. _

_By the time they meet the bed, his shirt's gone and she's practically naked. _

_He hovers over her now, his fingers rubbing circles into her hips and stares down at her, searching for any signs of uncertainty, or worse – fear._

"_Are you sure?" he asks, his voice low and gravelly as he presses a kiss to her flat belly. The image of Elena round with a child he'll never be able to give her suddenly flits through his mind and pain lances through him. He's making the right choice. He has to be. "You need to be sure, because once I have a taste of you there'll be no stopping me."_

"_Does this mean you won't leave?" she asks in a voice that sounds anything but hopeful. The look in her eyes tells him they both know this is a goodbye to every possibility between them, and not a beginning._

_Instead of answering her, the answer too painful to acknowledge verbally, he slips both her jeans and panties off in one go, and he groans at the sight of lacy red undergarments._

"_You're making it harder, you know," he tells her with a tight, though crooked, grin. He leaves her to decide whether it's an answer to his question or not._

"_That's the goal," she whispers, slipping a hand between them and wrapping a hand around his stiff cock, "on both accounts."_

_His forehead drops to her forehead, and he involuntarily pushes himself against her hand, moaning when she begins to work his shaft. "Succeeding," he gets out. "A-plus for effort."_

_She gasps against his lips, writhing against him as he rubs his thumb over her clit. "More."_

"_Careful what you wish for," he breathes, before angling his hips and sliding inside of her._

_They begin to move, Damon not only pushing in and out but swirling his hips so that he hits her sensitive nub with each gentle movement. They fit together like two puzzle pieces, and he can't imagine having ever had anyone else, no one else had ever felt so good. Her heavy breaths and whimpers tell him she hasn't experienced anything like this before either. They get closer to their release, and they pick up the pace, their movements growing frantic, uneven, until she's screaming and he's shouting and with one final thrust, they're both crying out. _

_Damon's face is buried in the crook of her neck as they come down from their highs, and he won't look up until he completely softens. With the way she feels around him, he could never tire of her, and he needs to be able to leave her. That'll never happen if he has her again. _

_He lets out a shaky breath, pressing a kiss to her damn throat and listens to her hum softly. His eyes roll in the back of his head at feeling her thread her fingers though his hair._

_The first and last time between them feels more like a dagger to the heart than the sense of closure he'd expected to feel._

_He pulls away from her, out of her, and rolls onto his back. Here it goes. "Elena…"_

"_I know," she whispers, not looking at him, choosing to keep her eyes locked on the ceiling. "You can't blame me for trying, can you?"_

_He looks at her at that. "You thought that sex would keep me here." It wasn't a question, or an accusation. Merely a statement that, thankfully, doesn't reveal his emotions, or the heartache of knowing that sleeping with the love of his life wouldn't be enough to keep him with her, to keep her with him. "I'm sorry."_

"_Don't be. I'm the one who's sorry."_

"_It's real…it is. I love you. Always will, but…dammit, Elena, I have to do the right thing by you." He sits up, the bed sheet falling away from his naked body when he climbs out of bed and reaches for his jeans and shirt. Keeping his back to her he says, "I'm completely in love with you, but you deserve the chance to live a normal life, we all do. We can't have normal in this town, and you can't have normal with me." _

_Jeremy's not home, he guesses, because he didn't hear him when he walked inside and she doesn't bother getting dress, just wraps the sheet around herself and follows him out of the room without so much as a complaint._

"_I've forgotten what it means to be normal, Damon," she says as they walk down the stairs. "We can be abnormal together. I'm fine with it. I'm fine with you."_

_He suppresses a snort, though he can't bite back the annoyance in his tone. "That's nice. Glad to hear you say you're fine with me after I say I love you."_

"_I do."_

_He pauses, a hand on the railing and he turns around to see her nodding silently, attempting a smile though it's a broken one._

"_Do what?" he asks carefully, watching her with wary eyes._

_She glares at him. "You know what."_

"_Well, I'm sorry," he smirks, feeling his heart race. She's right. He does know what, but he needs her to say it. He needs to hear it for himself. "You're gonna have to be a little more specific than that. I'm a little slow."_

_Elena bites her lip, her eyes gloss over, and he swallows hard. He's forcing her into a confession she needs to face and the sooner, the better. The sooner she'll be able to move on and the better it'll be for her in the long run. He refuses to back down, and he won't. Not until he gets it out of her. _

"_Any day now, Elena. I'm out of here either way, so you may as well get it off your chest. Purge."_

_She opens her mouth, but closes it again._

"_Well?"_

"_I…"_

_He smirks, and his eyes soften. "Come on, I know you can do it."_

_Elena takes another step down the staircase, a step closer to him and he has to take another step down, away from her. His decision won't change, but he knows it'll be even more difficult if she touches him again. He just experienced something with her that he never thought he'd be able to, something only his dreams have ever granted him, but now that they'd been made into a reality…_

_When she takes another step, and then another, he finds his feet are locked firmly in place. Her hands rest against his face, her other hand meeting on the other side, and she strokes his cheeks with her thumbs. He's helpless, powerless, and he leans into her touch, his eyes slipping shut on their own accord. He just needs to hear it, and then he can leave. Once he hears the words, he'll be able to give her what she's deserved ever since he'd barged into her life._

"_Elena, please…"_

_Her words are so soft, practically inaudible and he would've missed it if he'd been human. "I love you."_

_His eyes whip open. "Say it again."_

_He thought once would be enough. _

_Her eyes are shining, and his are burning. _

_He needs to hear it again, and she grants him that wish. "I love you, Damon."_

_He manages to swallow back the lump in this throat and nods. He doesn't think he'll ever get tired of hearing it, but he can't stay a minute longer. He needs to leave. He gently reaches up and wraps his fingers around her wrists and places them by her sides. The electricity surging through their touch is unmistakable._

"_You really want to leave me?" she chokes out. "I finally tell you what you've always wanted to hear, and now you want to leave?"_

"_I don't want to leave," he says with a pained smile. "I want to throw you back in your bed and never leave _you_, but –"_

"_No," she cries. "No 'buts,' Damon! We just made love. And it was the most incredible thing I've ever experienced in my life…"_

"_And that's why I have to leave."_

_She pauses, freezes. Her brows drop and irritation sparks in her dark irises. "You don't have to leave!"_

"_Elena…normalcy. That's why I'm leaving! I've got to! You need to understand that if the most incredible thing you ever feel is when you and I are tangled in between the sheets, that's fine. It's fucking beautiful, because it was nothing short of out of this world for me too, but you need to understand that I can't give you anything more."_

"_What do you mean? It's enough! I finally get it now. Damon, your love is enough!"_

"_It'll never be enough." She goes to protest and he silences her with a final kiss. He pours everything he can into it, and when he pulls back he's breathless. They both are. "I love you too damn much to not give you the chance to be happy – really, truly, happy. You know what I thought when I kissed your stomach? I thought about there being a life that I'll never be able to put inside of you. We'll never be able to have children. We'll never be able to grow old together. We'll never have that White Picket Fence lifestyle, Elena. I know you don't want to be a vampire –"_

"_I'd do it for you, I think –"_

"_You _think_," he smiles sadly. "I might have forced a confession from you that we both know you felt before you were ready to come out with it, but I would never force you into an immortal life. I want to spend forever with you, but how long do you think it would take before you began to resent me?"_

_She shakes her head frantically, her eyes wide as saucers. "That'd never…I would never –"_

"_You would, Elena. Eventually, you would." He presses another kiss to her skin, this time her forehead. "I'd rather drive a stake through my heart than watch you regret your life with me for even a second."_

_They're at Elena's front door now. He doesn't know when they reached it, his thoughts and attention completely consumed by Elena, like they've always been. It's not until Elena clutches at the sheet wrapped around her breasts and chokes out a sob that he knows she's finally accepted it._

_The moment has come and he doesn't think he can…no, he has to do it. If he doesn't, he'll never forgive himself for ruining her life._

_There's only one way to insure he goes through with it._

_The misery, guilt, and pain he feels vanishes like a flame being snuffed out. The weight pressing down on his heart lifts like the heavy burden it was and he watches her eyes fill with fear. _

"_Damon, no!" she cries, but it's too late. He doesn't want her to be afraid. He's doing what's best for her, regardless of her feelings, just like he's always done._

"_Try not to need me," he tells her, and the voice is as emotionless as he feels. "I'll see you around. Goodbye, Elena."_

The tears are relentless now, having broken through the dam he'd tried so fucking hard to keep up. Twenty years of absence. Twenty years of wondering what she'd gone through, and seeing it engraved on her headstone, he knows she'd gotten everything he'd always wanted for her. She'd gotten married, had a child, a little girl every bit as beautiful as her mother, and she'd had the normal, human life she'd deserved.

Until she'd gotten sick.

Jeremy had said it was Leukemia. Fucking brilliant, he thought.

"Elena," he groans, staring up at the sky as if searching for her. "I could have fixed that. I could have healed you, dammit. Blood cancer -– are you shitting me? A little of mine and you'd be good as new." He wiped away his tears with the back of his leather-clad sleeve. "I would have been there in a heartbeat. You would have railed on me for leaving. I would have been in and out and everything would have gone back to normal. Your daughter wouldn't have to grow up without a mother, and your husband – Little Gilbert says he's a good man, though I'll be the judge of that – wouldn't have to raise her alone." Leaving her in order to save her from herself had signed her death warrant…

"Excuse me," a little voice breaks through his speech, and Damon tenses. He'd heard their arrival the second the car had pulled into the cemetery, but he didn't think the guy would be stupid enough to let Elena's daughter near a stranger. He'd never in his life hurt a child, and the fact that this one was Elena's is enough to make him want to never drink blood again. Her voice, though squeaky as it is, reminds him of the girl's mother as if Elena herself is speaking. He turns around, and expects to see the blonde holding her hand, but he's not there.

Damon sees him farther down the path…sees _Aaron_, walking toward the car – again, a fucking idiot for leaving a child with someone he doesn't know.

"Daddy says you knew my momma."

Damon kneels down to meet the girl at eye-level and his breath he doesn't really need is stolen from him. Looking directly at her is like looking at a miniature version of Elena. The kind, though curious look in her eyes takes him back to the first time he met her. The first time someone had ever asked him what _he_ wanted out of life, and before he can talk any more of a stroll through Memory Lane, she's taking a step forward.

"I'm Maggie."

He looks to the grave, and jerks his head in the kid's direction. "This one's yours, huh?" he asks lightly, though his voice is tight. He looks at the girl and smiles. "Yeah, Maggie," he tells her quietly so not to scare her. His heart flips as he says her name. "I knew your mom."

Her answering smile nearly knocks him on his ass. It's fucking identical and he prays that she grows up looking even a tiny bit different. He'd hate for Klaus, or anyone else for that matter, to get their hands on her because of something not in her control.

Maggie crosses her arms and glares at him. "If you knew her then why have I never seen you buh-fore? You must have not been a very good friend to her."

His brows rise at her bluntness, and her accuracy. She's right. He's a shitty person for leaving, and he regrets it, but regardless of how much he wants to he can't change the past.

"I came back to apologize," he tells her.

"I dunno why." She watches him, trying to decide if she can trust him and apparently she chooses to because she pats his shoulder. "She forgives you."

"What?" he croaks.

"Uncle Jeremy said to me yesterday that someone might be here when Daddy and I got to the cem-e-tery today, but that we shouldn't be afraid. Said you meant a lot to Momma."

He swallows hard. "She meant a lot to me too."

"You weren't here when she died." Her statement is like a kick to the gut, and he nods silently. "Why?"

"I didn't know."

"What did you do?"

"I made a mistake…a long time ago."

"Daddy says Momma used to say something while she sleeped. Something about, 'when it's real, you can't walk away.'" The little girl suddenly rubs her arms for warmth and Damon remembers just how cold it is outside. He's only wearing a collared shirt and his leather jacket, but he removes it and wraps it around her little shoulders, and gently frees her dark locks from the coat. "Thank you…"

He smirks. "Name's Damon."

"Damon…" her eyes light up, and it's then that he knows she's heard the name before. "Nice to meet you, Damon." She sticks out her hand. "I'm Maggie."

He laughs. "Nice to meet you, Maggie."

"You know…I heard him talk about you."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhmm and Daddy talks in his sleep sometimes too. He says stuff like, 'it'll never be like it was with you and Damon.'" Another kick to the gut. Before she can add on to that story, the little girl's father, Aaron, coughs and causes her to whirl around. "Hi, Daddy!"

"Maggie, why don't you give the man his jacket back and get in the car where it's warm? We're leaving in just a few minutes."

"The man's name is Damon," Maggie says, huffing in annoyance and Damon chuckles in amusement. So Elena. "And I don't want to go. I want to stay and talk to him."

"I need to talk to him too."

Damon's smile disappears. He gets to his feet. "It's okay, kiddo. We do need to talk," he says to her, and Maggie doesn't look convinced. "Call Uncle Jeremy sometime. He'll tell you whatever you want to know." She seems to be placated, but before she leaves, she tells Elena – Momma – goodbye, tells Damon 'I'll see you soon' (tearing at his heart, Damon can practically hear Elena saying the words), and heads back to her dad's Range Rover.

Aaron eyes him carefully. "So you're the guy my wife was hung up over."

"If she was hung up on another man, it sounds like you shouldn't have married her."

The bitter words are out before he can stop them and he grimaces. He might be happy Elena had a child, but that didn't make him happy it was with a guy who'd seemed to be as stupid as he was protective. At least there was that.

"Sorry," he grumbles. "First time in town in years…wasn't exactly expecting to come home to her being gone."

Aaron exhales. "No one ever told you? You really didn't know?"

"If I had known she was sick, she'd still be alive."

"You couldn't have saved her, you know. I took her to see my uncle Wes…said she was too far gone for medical help. It would've done more harm than good – "

"Not exactly what I meant." He doesn't say anything more.

He nods like he understands, though Damon doesn't have a clue as to why. He doubts the guy knows about vampires, judging by the way his body is completely relaxed around him. Even Ric and Jeremy tensed at least a little whenever he was around. "I'm surprised her best friends didn't call you," Aaron says, "or Jeremy for that matter."

"Elena was what tied us together," he counters, "can't blame 'em for keeping it quiet. Especially with how we'd left things." How _he'_d left things.

"Or they knew you would have tried to help anyway."

"That too." Damon smirks, looking back to the car. "She's a looker…Elena did good."

"Maggie is the closest thing I have to her." Damon knows all too well what that must feel like, though he wishes he too had something to remember her by. Even if that thing was that damn necklace she'd always insisted on wearing before realizing it had once belonged to Rebekah.

"Who came up with the name?"

"Mutual agreement," Aaron answers, stepping up until he and Damon are standing side-by-side, in front of Elena's tombstone. "She's been gone two years, though it feels like two days."

"Yeah, well… for me it _has_ been two days," his lip twitches in annoyance, though he he calms himself down. It wasn't their fault. This was all on him.

"For what it's worth…" Aaron rubs his neck, exhaling heavily as a cloud of fog escapes his lips. "I'm sorry. If I'd had your number, I would have called. Elena talked about you all the time, Damon. In her sleep, mostly, but she said she'd never be able to walk away. I asked her once, what it was that seemed to be so special between you two…and you know what she said? She just said that it didn't matter anymore, because you'd walked away. And then she kissed me.

"I didn't miss the way she'd choked on her words, or the hurt I saw in her eyes. She never stopped loving you, Damon. And when she was diagnosed, I asked her to call you. And then do you know what she said? She said she didn't want you to have to worry about coming home to fix someone that had caused you enough pain to last a lifetime."

Aaron is now a blurry figure standing before him. Damon can't see through his tears.

Elena had been so fucking wrong...

"I get it," the man says. "I didn't before, you know. I thought that anyone who could leave her had to have been a brain-dead moron, but now I get it. Ugh. I don't know why you left her, but I do. And she said the same. Does that make sense?"

Damon actually laughs, and it's then that the embarrassment over crying in front of a stranger hits him, but it feels good to do so, even though it also hurts like a bitch in light of Elena's death.

"No," he says, "it doesn't. But whatever. I'll be taking off this ring soon enough. I don't really need a clear explanation."

"What?" Aaron frowns. "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing," Damon smirks. He reaches into his pocket and hands him his phone. "Look, all the contacts in here are people who've been good to me in my life. It's been a long one –"

"Please," he scoffs, looking him over. "You can't be older than 23."

"It's been a long one," Damon repeats, talking over him, "but the only name you need to worry about is this one here." Damon brings up his brother's information. "Call him if Maggie ever needs anything, okay?"

"Okay, but –"

"_Call him," _he narrows his eyes as he compels him to do what he says. "_Stefan will do everything he can for her, especially once he learns what she is to Elena. Call him if Maggie ever needs anything._"

"I'll call him if Maggie ever needs anything," he repeats back before blinking in confusion when Damon releases his hold on him.

"You take care of that little girl, do you understand?"

"Sure, Damon, but –"

"Tell Little Gilbert to call Stefan. Same rules apply to him, you got me?"

"Yeah –"

"Good." With that, he speeds back to the Gilbert home where he finds Jeremy packing the last box into the U-Haul. "Where's that photo album?" he asks, and Jeremy nods, heading into the house and coming back with what he wants.

"You got my brother's number?" he asks.

"No. I deleted it, along with yours when you skipped down."

"Whatever, your brother-in-law has it. Get it from him if you ever need it. Look, Jeremy," Damon says, starting to feel every bit as sentimental as he did when he'd said goodbye to Maggie and much to his surprise, Aaron. "It's been years…and I wasn't able to apologize to Elena like I wanted…"

"You're forgiven."

He gives Jeremy an odd look. "How the hell do you know?"

"She forgave you. Right after you left, she was in tears for a month. She told me she wished she'd been honest with herself, and you, a lot sooner… but Damon, she didn't once hate you for what you did. I did, though." Damon shrugs. "I forgive you too, if you care."

"Not really," he smirks. "But good to know."

"Dick."

Jeremy knows this is a goodbye too, he realizes. Somehow the Gilberts are always able to tell. Damon then throws his arms around him, clasping him in a masculine embrace and Jeremy freezes a moment before reciprocating the hug. He tells Jeremy to stay out of harm's way before releasing him.

When he gets home, Damon goes into his liquor cabinet and downs a bottle of his finest bourbon, staring at the fire in the living room fireplace and reveling as it burns down his throat. He can't wait any longer. It's been a long ass day, and while he hates that Elena didn't hate him for leaving, he knows she would surely hate him for what he's about to do.

After putting out the fire, Damon walks out his front door and steps out from the porch and into the lawn.

He whispers, "I'll always love you," before inhaling a deep breath (preparing for both pain and at last, relief).

He runs his finger over the metal one final time before removing his ring.

* * *

_AN: Thank you so much for reading (*hands out tissues to those who need it*), & please review! ~Kate_


End file.
